


Grief takes many forms

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Background Relationships, Drunkenness, Family Bonding, Family Loss, Forgiveness, Future Fic, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Self-Blame, Self-Hatred, Sibling Bonding, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-01 21:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15782547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: When his anniversary come's around, the remaining de Rolo siblings meet in the oddest of unsuspected circumstances and reminisce on those who were lost and what once was.Family, lost and found, has left them.This is the story of those we miss, held tightly in our memories and never to be realised.





	Grief takes many forms

**Author's Note:**

> While I know we need more Percy and Vax's fics, we also need more Percy and Cassandra fics. I'm here to try and make that happen. I hope you like this and that I did a good job.
> 
> I've sort of got Percy down but we know less about Cassandra because she's in it less so I'm sure I fucked up her dialogue but I tried to model it slightly off of Percys
> 
> I'm sorry if the tense is wrong, I tried to make it all present tense but I don't think I did a good job.

The wall of the tavern is a fading brown and Percival admires the stains on the wood and the holes left by darts as he takes another sip of his whisky. It’s another one of those days, shot glasses and mugs piled high around him, eyes dropping and glassy but he can’t find it anywhere inside himself to care.

He knows he could have very easily done this in his room in the castle but the barkeep is friendly and asks no questions, the patrons loud enough to be a dreary background noise and he knows he is surrounded by others drowning out their guilt and distress and heartache with copious amounts of drink.

It’s been a few years now since the final fall of Vecna, even longer still since the end of the Chroma Conclave. His children so far have grown up strong and healthy and their names bring the lineage of another de Rolo bloodline.

But with the fall of Vecna brings the loss of Vax, the ultimate disbanding of Vox Machina once and for all. That is why Percy found himself in a secluded tavern away from the common crowd of Whitestone and why the afternoon sunlight splayed dancing beams of light from where it shone through the coloured stain glass window.

Percy knew better than this, he really truly did, but who would think twice about the Lord of Whitestone stumbling through the square and into the castle before the sun sets? They all know who he is, what’s he’s been through, what he’s lost, so who are they to deny him some semblance of comfort?

He’s just taking another sip when the barkeep- a middle-aged gnome with a wreath of frizzy red hair and a gentle smile- stops from where she is cleaning out mugs with a rag and pats him on the arm. “Easy there, my lord.” She says with a light laugh. “We wouldn’t want Lady Vex’halia to think you were trying to avoid her, coming all the way out here to order enough drinks to put an experienced competitor to shame.”

“No,” Percy replies, proud and surprised at how little his voice shakes. “No, of course not. Thank you very much for looking out for me but she knows where I am and I’m sure she’ll be joining me shortly.”

“That’s alright.” She turns back to her mugs. He really should ask her name, for the next time his pain gets too strong and he needs to see a familiar face. “I’ve got a to finish up this shift and then Maddie is coming out here, so if you need anything just ask her and she’ll set you up.”

“How considerate of you, thank you very much.”

“Not to worry Lord de Rolo, anything for our cities great saviour.” And then she is gone, out through a back door and Percy is left in the silence and with the sloshing of his drink in his cup.

Not long after, a fair-skinned woman with long brown hair enters the bar through the same back door- Maddie, Percy assumes- and walks around the tavern, refilling tankards and partaking in flirtatious conversations.

“Yes, we have a wide variety of people here, any race, any sex, who are all willing to give you a good time for a good price.” He hears at one point, and ah, the days when they were young and stupid and always in desperate need of a good time to end the night.

Foolishly, he thinks of Scanlan, and the wry grin that would spread across his face at the suggestion of a night spent at a House of Lady-Favours before he remembers how devoid of laughter they all were when Scanlan left, and he suddenly he felt that all-consuming anger again. He slammed down a glass and picked up another.

He was well experienced in the art of drowning away sorrows with drink, knew that he had a long way to go before he should start being careful.

Vex would not come looking for him, that he knew, too wrapped up in her own remembrance and burdens to realise he was even gone, so to have a woman in fine robes pull the stool out next to him from under the bar and sit upon it, he was rather surprised.

“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” she says, and Percy was shocked to see Cassandra, hair askew, emerald green dress ruffled and tear-stained and her makeup haphazardly applied. “And just as much.”

“You’re far too young to be drinking that, you know.” Percy admonishes, as Cassandra wraps her hand around the tankard.

“Fuck off.” She grunts, lifting it to her lips and gulping it down until the mug is half empty, slamming it down in the bar and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“You’re a mess.” Percy snorts, earning a glare from his sister. He hides his face in his mug.

Cassandra glowers at him. “You’re not much better.” And yes, when Percy looks down at himself he sees that the collar of his coat is twisted, his buttons clasped to the wrong holes, his boots two different lengths up his thighs.

He sighs. “I suppose it has been a bad day for us both then.” Cassandra salutes her understanding with her now empty tankard, picks up another one. “Have you seen Vex? She was already away when I woke this morning and I have not seen her since.”

“I saw her just before.” Cass rubs her eyes, and Percy notices the identical ones that are under his. “She was in tears. I tried to comfort her because I know what time it is, but I fear I made her sorrow worse.”

Nodding, Percy runs his finger around the lip of his mug. “What brings you down here?” He asks quietly. “And how did you find me?”

“You always come here when you need to be alone,” Cass replies. “Your workshop is starting to gather dust; you’ve been avoiding it so long.”

“I’m not _avoiding_ it,” Percy grumbles, and Cassandra turns in her seat to glower at him. “Simply… taking a break.”

“Your clock tower is half finished, Percival. I know you well enough to understand that you don’t leave projects unfinished once they get started.” She sips her drink. “What is it really?”

The wood grain in the sticky and alcohol stained bar is suddenly very interesting to Percy. “It reminds me too much of a time… before.” He feels his breath catch so he swallows it down before continuing. “I find that at times of great stress, a moment away helps me forget those we have lost and those we could not save. I think about that often. I suppose… today is one of those days.”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” She’s swirling the drink in her cup now, the liquid sloshing within. “Do you ever think about them?”

“Them?” Percy asks, as though he wasn’t about to ask Cassandra the exact same question about the exact same people.

“Mother and Father.” Her words were soft. Understanding. A tone he hasn’t heard for a long time. “And Julius and Vesper and Ludwig and Oliver and Witney-”

“Yes, yes.” Percy waves her off with a scowl. “I know their names. I repeat them every night. Yes, I think about them, very often. More frequently than I would ever admit.”

“Watching Vex’halia, today,” Cass was quiet, so uncharacteristic that Percy turned to look at her and saw her staring mindlessly at the de Rolo crest bunt into the hilt of his sword. “Made me remember the very moments they were killed, and I realised that I had never stopped missing them.”

Humming, Percy kicked her under the table and she instantly kicked him back. He almost smiled. “Yes, I still feel guilty that it was I who survived, I who was nothing and worthless and so very unimportant compared to the rest of them. But I suppose we cannot change fate.”

“And I as well.” She agrees. “Percival, do you know that we still haven’t found the bodies?” That gave Percy pause. “We have been searching for years now and still, we don’t know what those monsters did with their bodies.”

“Well,” Percy draws out. “We know that their bodies were the first to hang from the Suntree. They were probably left there until they decomposed and fell apart and they probably burnt them.”

Cassandra had finished her mug by the time Percy had ended, tipping her head back to catch the last dregs between her lips. “So it’s true then.” He voice was dull. “They were put into your cell. When you were with Ripley, under the castle. They piled them up in your cell?”

“Yes,” Percy mutters. “It was… unpleasant.”

Spitting in an empty mug, Cassandra glowers. “Fucking bullshit assholes...”

“Who taught you how to swear?”

“You did. You and your ragtag group of adventures.”

Picking up another glass, Percy rolled it between his palms, watching the amber liquid inside swirl. The white streaks in Cassandra’s hair have been braided- probably by Percy’s oldest daughter- and tied into her bun. She had wrinkles that ran down her face and while Percy was almost 30 and was in no better condition, seeing his youngest sister so beaten and broken left another hole in his heart.

“Stop looking at me like that.” Cass says, “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking about how fond I was of Vox Machina.” Percy lies. “And how I don’t know where I’m going without them.”

If Cassandra caught his lie, she doesn’t show it. “Do you not keep in touch?”

“Not as much as I would like.” He admitted. “The gnomes and Grog are often found together but they are rather hard to get a hold of. Tary roams the countryside looking for adventure, the fool. Keyleth, I suppose, we speak to most, but mostly when she visits.”

“Shame,” Cass says, and she rolls the tension out of her neck. “This is around the time Vax’idan died, Percival, and you come to this bar every year and arrive back at the castle so… inhibited that you can hardly walk.”

“His death was my fault.” Percy’s voice was tight, clipped. “And though I had a way to save him, to… revoke him of his oath to the Raven Queen, I did not take it, and instead allowed to him leave us.”

“That’s not the only reason though, is it brother?”

Damn her, she always did know Percy much too well. “No, I suppose it’s not.”

“I’m remembering Vesper braiding my hair before the feast,” Cassandra says around her mug. “And Mother flattening out my dress before I greeted the Briarwood’s.” Her gaze was fixed firmly on her brother. “I know you do not just feel guilty about Vax, Percival.”

Sighing, Percy resigned himself to defeat. “I often think about how I had run away when the fighting started. How Julius had held off the men as Vesper ushered me into my room and locked it. I never saw any of them again.” He reluctantly met Cassandra’s eyes. “I think about how I left you to die in the snow even more so.”

“I am beginning to forgive you for that,” Cassandra says, a slight lilt to her voice that tells Percy that she’s trying to fool around. Her face falls. “I sat next to Delilah, you know. At the feast. She told me that I was pretty.”

“Yes, and Sylas told me that my mind was a marvel to behold.” Percy was surprised at the bitterness in his own voice. “And then I ended up here.”

Cassandra laughs, harsh and spiteful, as she drums her fingers against the wood. “Now look at us.”

They sit in silence for far too long where Percy chances side-eyed glances at his sister. They were both far too young and far too stupid to live the lives they had, the burdens they have bared. There are still freckles on Cassandra’s cheeks, her skin still bright red. She was merely a child and Percy has forced her to grow up faster than she deserved.

“I am… eternally sorry, you know.” Percy mutters, downing another shot. Cassandra does the same, knowing where this is headed. “For leaving you. Had I thought you lived I…” Percy could not find the words to continue.

“It’s alright.” Cass places a hand on his arm and Percy resists the urge to jerk away.

“No, Cassandra, it’s not.” He clears his throat. “I joined Vox Machina to prove to myself that I was brave and that when it counted, I could be strong. That I could be dependable. So that I would never run again.” Percy exhales. “The guilt I feel for being the one to survive is… extravagant. I cannot find the words to describe my pain.”

“I don’t blame you anymore, you know.” Cassandra’s voice is almost drowned out by the roar of the tavern.

A sharp spark of shame and anger shoots into Percy’s heart. “You should. I’m an absolutely horrible person. I do not deserve your forgiveness.”

Cass doesn’t answer, just stares at her warped reflecting in the glass of a liquor bottle. “Do you remember them?” Once again, Percy is struck by how young she is and how broken he made her. “There are days when I can’t remember Ludwig’s music, Vesper’s smile, Witney’s laugh. Sometimes, I can’t even remember Mother’s voice.” She chokes up at the end, so Percy reaches over to pat her on the back.

“I do have days like that, yes,” Percy admits. “But I know I will forever have those days. I know there will come a time when I can no longer remember Vax’s touch, or Uriel’s sighing or Tiberius’s nonsensical bumbling. I will always know those moments.”

“I remember when Oliver would sneak out of the house and would bring us flowers,” Cass says suddenly, making Percy choke on his drink. He’s far into his cups now, body going numb and ears ringing, but with his sister beside him and his mind on other things, he doesn’t care to stop. “He would get them from that girl he fancied- the baker’s daughter, she grew them in her garden- and would leave them in our rooms, already trimmed and in vases.”

The memory stung Percy, but with a fond smile, he nodded all the same. “He did always enjoy his long walks to her house. I think the flowers were just an excuse.”

“Do you remember her name?”

“Amelia, I think.” Percy tried to stretch his memory back before the Briarwood’s. “Amelia Fernhart, maybe, but there are a lot of Amelia’s here so I might have just made that up.” He laughed and oh, that felt good.

Humming, Cass dunked her finger in her mug, watched a drop fall from the tip and land with a _plop_ in the liquid. “I wonder if she’s still alive.”

“I doubt it.” Percy yawned. He was tired now, after a sleepless night, a busy afternoon the day before and enough mugs to get Grog excited, he felt he earned that right. “Almost everyone died. I’m sure they did too. Her father always was too stubborn for his own good.”

“Remind you of anyone?”

“Get lost, Cass.”

Shaking, Cassandra reaches up and rubs a trembling hand through her hair, across her face, against her temples. “Percy,” she whispers and Percy tries to ignore the shake of exhaustion in her voice. He knows it well, it’s the same one in his. “Brother. I am so, so very tired.”

“I know, Cassie, I know.” Gripping her hand, Percy leans forward, placing one hand at the base of her neck and touching his forehead to hers. “And I am trying the best I can to take most of the load, but there are still some things I cannot accomplish alone.”

Cassandra’s eyes were distant. “You know I don’t hold that against you. But every day I can help wonder how much better Julius and Vesper would have been suited to running Whitestone.”

“Much better than the two of us.”

“Here, here.” They down another mug together.

“I hated you, you know,” Cassandra mutters. “When you left and when you came back.”

“I know. I hated me too.”

“I don’t anymore.”

“That’s good.” Percy sighs “At least one of us does.”

The silence was sudden and jarring and Percy much rather wishes to be spending time with his sister in the Whitestone library than in a dingy bar getting drunk, but Cassandra seems content with her ale and her whisky, tapping the tabletop with her nails and staring out the window at the citizens of Whitestone bustling around.

“Percival, do you remember Orthax?”

Percy chocks on his drink, blinking as it burned up his nose. “What?”

“Orthax. I dreamt about him last night.”

“Cassandra please, please tell me you didn’t make a deal with him in your dream,” Percy begged, shoulders stiff.

Sighing, Cass pushes Percy’s face away. “He didn’t visit me in a dream, I dreamt about him possessing you and the smoke.”

“Right…?”

“Do you think about him anymore?”

“Often but less lately. I feel as though I’m so busy I don’t have time to think about anything of that sort.” A pause. “I think of Ripley most days though, if that counts for anything.”

“That’s disturbing.”

"That I don't deny, but I'm sure you have as many disturbing thoughts as I do." Percy defended.

Cass shrugs and went back to her drink, but Percy could no longer stand the silence. “I miss Vax.” He says, and Cassandra looks at him, gentle and understanding. “I really do. I did not think I would but now that he’s gone I feel as though I am missing pieces of my soul, more than normal.”

“You and he did not always get along though, right?” Cass asks, “I do remember something like that.”

So did Percy. He could still feel the mark Vax’s fist left on his face and reached his hand up to touch it. Another phantom scare to add to his collection. “No, we didn’t. I never stopped loving him, never stopped caring about his wellbeing, but there was a wall of… distrust between us.”

“Do you remember what set it off?”

_Yes_ , Vex’s bleeding and broken body lying lacerated on the floor, veins blackened by magic and eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling, a brother's desperate begging for her to come back, a promise, a declaration to a higher power and a thriving, prosperous breath. “No.”

Not looking convinced, Cass turns away. “But you still loved him.”

“I did,” Percy agrees. “Very much so. He was a brother, not through blood but through choice. It was he who unlocked me from my cage and gave me a chance. I may have given his sister all my gold but it was he who I owed everything else.”

“You could not have stopped what happened-”

“Oh yes, Cassandra, I could have.”

She sucked on her bottom lip. “Well, it’s done now.”

Her hand was soft in his. He noticed the tavern occupants lowering their voices and Maddie watching them out the corner of her eye from where she flirted with another patron. “Do you remember when we were proud, Cassandra?” He met his sister's downcast gaze. “When we were happy? When we were strong?”

“No,” she whispers, “but I remember the flowers in the garden at spring and the sight of the snow on Winters Crest, freshly made beds and fingers full of chocolate pudding. I like to think it felt like that.”

“I wish I had the same experiences that you had. I spent most of my time in my workshop or the library.” He looks down and laughs sadly at the bench. “I’m coming to regret that now.”

“We always told you that you would.” Cassandra smiles. “But it has come to do you some good, these days.”

“I hate that I can’t remember a time of pure happiness in our lives.” Percy gazes around the room. “Hell, we wouldn’t be in a dingy bar getting shitfaced at 1 in the afternoon.”

Cassandra places her hand over her brothers and rubs her thumb over the scared and calloused skin. “I don’t remember a time when I was ever happy, but I remember the joy the sound of Ludwig’s fiddle would bring me when it drifted down the halls. I remember the paintings Julius would hang in my room of all my favourite things. Vesper would knit me scarfs and dolls and would put my hair up in braids. The twins would sneak into the castle library to bring me books after I had been grounded.” She exhales. “I remember dancing in front of mother and father before Winter’s Crest as a tradition each year. I do not remember being happy myself, but I remember their happiness and I feel like that is enough.”

Chucking, Percy taps the base of his mug lightly against the bar. “Yes, I uh, I do remember a time like that. It was… some of the best moments of our lives.”

“What of Vox Machina?” Cassandra asked. “You cannot lie to me and say that you had no joyous memories of your time together.”

With a gulp, Percy almost shakes his head. It was too much of an open wound being re-opened with a rusted knife. It burned and festered deep in his soul, the harder he fought the infection the easier it became to live with it. The more he ignored it, forgot it, he could pretend that he wasn’t dying slowly and painfully on the inside while his smile grew larger and larger each passing day.

He looks around the room, at the dart-ridden wall, the ale sticky bar, the darkly stained floorboards, the many tables filled with drunken people, the gold piling up on the wood, the drinking contents and the songs of victory and he could almost imagine a time when he was younger and the S.H.I.T’s had become Vox Machina, celebrating triumph with long bar crawls through Emon.

“Scanlan would stand in the centre of a square, any square in any town, and charm each and every person with his sweet words and whimsical musical talent.” He said eventually, eyes distant and his mind was thrown back into the past. “Vex would stand on her toes in whatever shop we found, and would haggle down prices until her face was red and twisted and we were hiding giggles behind her back. Keyleth would kneel down to any child found alone on the streets and grow flowers in their hair, spin vines around their arms, put smiles on their faces until an adult ushered them home. Grog would run through the streets with the gnomes on his shoulders and bellow songs he only knew half the words of. Pike, the sweet woman she was, could drink any man under the table and still be standing upon it, mug held high in the air and her cheers quieting the room.”

Percy is acutely aware of Cassandra’s eyes on him. “And Vax’ildan?”

Sighing in defeat, Percy carved haphazard patterns into the woodgrain with his nail. “He was… an odd one. He would sit somewhere high and watch the clouds as they blew past. He would claim that sometimes if he reached out his hand, he could touch them. I believe that was why he liked the carpet so much, but then again both the twins did so maybe it was genetic.”

“That’s not so odd.” Cassandra offers quietly, barely heard over the roaring din of the taverns patrons. “You used to do the same thing, in the garden and the castle towers.”

“I was a very odd child, Cassandra. I suppose that is what clung to me, after it all.” Percy smiles faintly at a sudden memory. “I shall never forget the look of bliss on his face when he first acquired his wings and could run his hand through the clouds.”

"I suppose..." Cass began. "we are dealing better with our loss than we thought. As long as we keep them in our memory, we will never lose them."

Suddenly, there were shouts of drunken surprise from behind them and deep, gravely growls. Neither de Rolo needed to turn around to see the brown bear approaching as he butted in between their chairs and put his front paws on the bar.

“Hello, Trinket.” Percy greets, running his hands through the bear's fur. “Has your mother sent you to come and find us?” An affirmative huff and Percy laughs, standing up. “I suppose we must go. I wouldn’t want Vex to worry.”

Cassandra stood and nearly toppled over if Trinket hadn’t been there to steady her. Percy wasn’t much better, he reflected, and he laughed as he tripped making his way to the door.

“Oh, this is ridiculous.” Cassandra sighs as she uses Trinket to help herself to the front door. “What is the town going to think, seeing us like this?”

“That we are two very tried people who have suffered through countless trauma’s and are treating themselves to a drunken stupor.” Percy laughed. “Come now Cass, this was the plan all along!”

"Was it?"

"I am nothing if not a man with a plan." Percy grinned. "And a plan B. And a plan C." 

Giggling, Cassandra followed her brother back to the castle.


End file.
